Degrees
by LowBreeze
Summary: What if you met someone that knew someone that was related to a person who's BFFs with your soulmate? The world is full of connections but considering the degrees of separation, how many degrees until the two of you meet? Or will your paths cross at all?
1. First Degree

_(A/N: New story! Yay! So, I know I've put this off for the longest time--I'm sorry! But I had trouble thinking of ideas of how to get started; I always have trouble with the beginnings of stories._

_This story will feature a few of my favorite people here on Fanfiction, and they've done nothing but make me thrive as a writer, no matter the reason. They will appear at least twice each, so keep an eye out for those fabulous people. This first chapter, I regret to say, however, will not be graced by their person(alities) as of yet, because I must still introduce Jason and the OC's story beforehand. From there, the story will unfold at their revealing._

_But without further ado, here is **Degrees**, a story dedicated to Jason. =) One for Nate, one for Shane, and now, one for Jason. I have now a story for each special guy. A complete Trilogy, if you may.)_

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* * *

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**Degrees**

_Of Separation._

_It's to be said that if you know someone, then that person knows someone else. Maybe a sister, the paper boy, a best friend, or even that stranger walking down the street at that very moment you look. A human web, they say._

_Then...is it possible? Is it possible for that special person, the soulmate, the one, to be only a few 'degrees' away?_

_Maybe._

_But just how many 'degrees' will it take until the two of you meet?_

_...or will you even cross paths at all?_

* * *

**Jason's P.O.V**

"You guys are going to love it," the polite man promised as he ushered us down the long, winding hallway. His deep voice echoed and bounced off the walls, which was helpful since it traveled to the farthest person trailing behind in the group. "The Texas Stadium seats about sixty-six thousand, but even the farthest row has a good view of center stage. You can choose to either have the roof on, or if you'd like an open stadium. So, rain or shine, we could--"

"I'm sorry," I spoke up. His fast pace slowed, but did not stop leading us the way. I held out my hand. "We didn't catch your name before."

"Oh, yeah," he realized, laughing, "_Skyler_."

"Jason," I introduced myself.

The youngest, but also the wisest of the band, followed suit. "Nate."

"I'm Shane." The timing was perfect when Skyler and Shane released their handshake, and Skyler pushed two bars on a set of doors open. They swung open, and remained propped wide in order to fully showcase the unbelievable sight before us.

Countless row seats sloped down from where I stood, only to come to an end by a simple--but safe, I'm sure--railing. The aisles, however, stretched narrow flights of stairs farther than the railings, splitting down the middle and led to the lower level of the seats. To reach the floor seats, or standing room as I'd like to call it, people would only have to enter from either side of the stadium. The seats placed near the stage were merely there to give comfort to the fans while they patiently wait for the concert to begin. And once the stage lights up, no one should be sitting down.

But for now, the stage was a blank canvas. It was for me and my brothers to enjoy constructing bonus platforms and adding other pyro machines that would make for one awesome concert.

"Race you!"

We wasted no more time at the very top of the stadium to begin placing all the band equipment on stage. …I so won with the help of a Segway parked nearby. Oh, the looks on my brothers' faces when I rolled by them--priceless.

But I couldn't wait for them to catch up. I hopped off the two-wheeled vehicle and went straight to work. "Great, great," I said. I looked through the small frame I had created with my two hands and backed up a few steps. There was just enough space to place the column of strobe lights. "If you could move it a little to the left, it would be perfect."

"You got it." The crane emitted a loud whirring sound and a groan, lifting the lighting equipment. I hopped off the stage and jogged up to the guy working the contraption to offer him a handshake.

"Hey, thanks man, I really appreciate it." I had to step up on a ladder to reach his hand. "Thanks for all your help…" I trailed off, fishing for his name.

"_Ivan_," he replied. "Hey, you know my girls love your band."

"Then we need to get you guys some tickets, don't we?"

"Hey, Jason!" Shane called me from across the stadium. He didn't need to call more than once, because the echoes did that for him. I thanked the man once more, and told him to keep up the good work. When I met up with Shane, he was talking with one of the set crew. "Jason, this is _Odie_, the man with the fire," Shane said.

"Hey man, nice to meet you," I said. "Nice to have you on board. Now, will it be possible to create a ring of fire for all of us to, like, jump through during the show?"

Odie barked a laugh. "Are you serious? That's a death hazard written all over it." Shane and I just stood there, looking at him like there was nothing wrong. A second later, Odie's face smoothed over with a wicked grin and slowly nodded. "I thought you'd never ask. I'll get right on it."

"Thanks, man." Shane patted his shoulder, and I could already tell he was planning on doing some daredevil aerial in his mind.

"Guys!" Nate yelled from yet the other end of the stadium. "Pre-show meet-and-greet. Five minutes!"

Shane and I sprinted for the exit, hurdling over seats like we were Olympians. …Well, okay, not exactly hurdling, but we were in a pretty big hurry. On the way, walking in quick strides to the area outside where I heard a vast crowd of fans were waiting, we went over the rest of today's agenda.

"Oh, man." Shane snapped his fingers, and scolded himself. "I forgot to get that one guy's number about the--"

"The one whose car you scratched you sat on it?" I asked. "Didn't you leave a note already?"

"No, not him."

Nate patted my arm for attention. "He's probably talking about the guy who he hit with the wiffle ball when we were playing earlier in the parking lot. He wants to apologize for the second time that ball came around," he laughed. "Should've let me bat, dude."

"Hey, on the bright side, though," I said, "it would've totally been a home run and our team would've scored if the ball didn't…hit…that guy."

"Thank you, Jason," Shane said sincerely, knuckle-punching for support. "No, the one guy who was going to set me up with that awesome mike stand for tonight's concert. Nate, do you remember what his name was?"

"Jude? Ozzy?" Nate guessed. "Simon? Percy, Theo, Cris? I'm just throwing out names out there; I have no idea. Am I close?"

After a long thought, Shane shook his head. "No, nothing's clicking. What about you, Jason? Do you remember that guy we met, the one we met a few hours ago?"

I scoffed. "Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea how many people we meet everyday?"

* * *

**Vera's P.O.V.**

I pulled my cap over my head and secured it there, satisfied with the way it mussed up my hair from where it hugged my head. A quick look in the cracked, but useful, mirror hanging on the wall, I checked my card into the sign-in machine--the ancient hole-punching kind--positioned right beside it. My keys clinked in my pocket as I sauntered over to the table and poured myself some steaming, good, old--day-old, if specifics mattered--cup of joe.

"Yo, Vera! Let's go!"

"What?" I called over my shoulder through the grate in the cement wall, but with my eye on that stale donut.

_HONK_

Obviously rushed, I reached for the fritter and stuffed it into my mouth before making a mad dash for the garage.

"Forget something?" Kendal stood there, impatient in her pointlessly 'stylish' suspenders, and waiting for me to grab my other set of keys that must have slipped my mind back at the apartment we share. Being best friends with an overly and obnoxiously organized person had its perks sometimes. The messenger cap I was donning was her kooky idea of making me look good for the job, which seemed worthless to even attempt, taking into consideration what our job was.

Underneath Kendal's smirk of a grin, the left--well, my left, her right--corner of her lip was always a little bit higher, an unspeakable indicator of mischief. Her innocent peach blush on the touch of her cheeks was just a distraction, and that's what I try to tell people. But who cares what I have to say once people get the sight of her long, chestnut hair that shined in a way that couldn't be natural, even though I knew it was. She always told me, despite her own beautiful untreated hair, she would wish for my polished, shoulder-length, and average in more ways than one, auburn hair.

She was unknowingly wishing for an hour minimum a day to tame this thing on my head into what it looks like in the daylight. Today, the monster wasn't entirely willing to cooperate after a shower, so I literally threw in the towel and went with the hat.

"Don't look at me like that," I complained, swiping my keys from her twirling fingers.

We walked down the line of vehicles and we kept an eye out for our beauties. "Just a 'thank you' would be nice," she objected.

"How about I let you out of the garage first this morning?" I offered once I strolled up to my car. My hand swept across its glossy, yellow curves, its fine checkered print stripped from one end to the other, the bulbous ends that had newly installed lights. My very own unit number that I was particularly proud of since it was my birth date, 61987, flickered on when I turned the engine over and my beauty purred something pleasant. The counter was set to zero automatically, and it was ready for me to start collecting once I hit the pavement.

Kendal pulled out before me, as I promised, and I followed close behind, honking at her just for the fun of it. I laughed when she flipped me the bird from out her window, and then I replied with two of my fingers crossed as a traditional departing gesture.

"I take it you're rollin' out, ladies?" Sal asked. He yanked on the chains and rose the garage doors, sending us on our way as taxi drivers.

Kendal drove off towards her own assigned district, and I veered in the opposite direction to mine. It didn't matter what section we took care of; New York was always hailing for cabs every other second.

Business was always just around the corner. I pulled over to the curb after driving just half a block from the garage. A pair of women climbed in from either side of the car from what I saw in my rearview mirror. "Fifty-eighth and Park," one of them said into the open square slot.

"West New York--sure thing." With a push of a button, I was charging them a fair quarter per mile with the additional standard of two-fifty for the first ninth of a mile. By the end of this, I was sure to have at least forty dollars.

When we arrived at the location, an arm stuck through my open driver's side window. And like most New Yorkers that were in a rush to get somewhere, "Keep the change" was absolutely divine music to my ears from above.

The meter continued to run until I beat another cab driver to a new client waving for attention in the middle of the road. As the competition's car slowly drove by, I prepared and composed a face that gloated innocently. It was a middle-aged man that was driving his run-of-the-mill regular taxis, and his wasn't nearly as spick and span as mine was. Good thing he couldn't see the interior my beauty. It wasn't pretty from where I sat. Garbage. Everywhere.

"Just drive," the man said the moment he planted himself into the back seat. I nodded and lightly pulled the tip of my hat down to comply.

No names--that's my rule. What point was there in trying to get to know these wackos, especially this one sitting behind me with no destination in mind? On average, I was going to meet five more people like him before the day's end. That plastic wall between the front seat and the back seat served for more than a simple security and germ guard.

_I didn't want to get to know him._

"Vera Sharpton," the man randomly read aloud my ID, which was printed in the backseat for the passenger's knowledge. We made eye contact from the rear view mirror, and he was shocked. "You're a cab driver?"

"Um, is that supposed to mean something to me?"

"No--well, yes. No and yes," he decided somewhat. "It's just that you're a very…attractive--too attractive to have a job like this." My concentration averted to the road when the creepy guy kept on staring. I think the glasses he wore were getting foggy, or it was just my rearview mirror misting up. "Oh, turn left here."

Signaling and turning after a rolling stop at the corner, I later replied with, "Thanks, sir."

"What am I talking about? You must meet too many people that say that to you a hundred times a day," he said with a laugh. "_You _pick up all the guys, I'm guessing."

"And I've heard that pun just as many times from guys like you," I said. I pulled the car to a full stop, caring less for the fuming and honking cars jammed behind me. My arm swung over, and I peered through the scratched up plastic window. "Listen, guy, do you have a place to go or what? Because I don't want to find out that you can't spot whatever number ends up on the meter…and that you're weird." He blinked at me. His glasses were foggy, and he even pulled out a hanky to pat his forehead. "Now, where to?"

"Town Square," he said.

Contented, I sat back and put the car in drive, and went on my way before a cop could reach through all this traffic. "And you're right," I said, _"_I do meet too many people in this job_."_

* * *

**Jason's P.O.V.**

"Thank you, Jason!"

"You're very welcome, _Dilan 'with an A'_" I told the little girl once I'd handed her a signed poster. "Give me a high five!" She had to jump to reach my hand from across the table. "Alright, you take care now!"

"Bye, Jason!"

"And to who do I make this out to?" Shane asked. "_Carrie_?" He signed the back of her shirt like she had asked him to.

"Here you go." Nate gave a squealing girl an autographed tour book.

And this process repeated for quite some time. Someone was bound to get a phone call during the meet-and-greet.

"Excuse me for a minute," Shane said to a new fan. He leaned over to me and whispered, "It's Mitchie." He walked off and went around the backdrop to get some privacy.

And someone else got a phone call, too. …It wasn't me. "Yeah, hi, Cait?" Nate whispered, simply turning his back on the table.

A quiet girl approached the table with a bashful smile on her face. "Hi, what's your name?" I asked for the umpteenth time. While I continued to sign, I had to listen to my brothers murmur "I love you's" and "I miss you's."

I looked out to the gigantic crowd patiently waiting, studying each face carefully, hopeful. Unquestionably, without a doubt hopeful that someone, maybe not from this crowd, is for me. She's perfect, everything that I could wish for a girl. One to call while I'm in the middle of something, just because I thought of her. I've set myself up with high expectations, and I know that's going to ruin me in the end, but I will eventually find her.

_I know you're out there, somewhere._

* * *

**Vera's P.O.V.**

"I will never have an ass," Kendal complained, speculating her reflection in the mirror. "And that's because I spend almost the entire day on it." She sighed frustratingly. "At least this dress and these heels make it look like something's there."

"Your boyfriend sure admires the hell out of it," I challenged, referring to the brave soul that's been with her for a year now. "So there's nothing to be whine about." I rolled my eyes. I strutted across the apartment floor in my simple purple ruffled halter dress to hook on my hoop earrings to finish putting my image together. "Ready to go?"

"Shoot, I've been ready!" Kendal giddily traipsed out the door and we walked to the nearest club, gauging how loud the music was bumping from afar. The louder the music, the more people dancing.

Keeping our daytime appearances under wraps, we were able to slip by the green velvet ropes. Eyes were on us the entire time as Kendal and I sauntered through the dance floor, absolutely clueless about who we were, curious. And so was I.

I was skimming through the room, sifting, deciding, choosing. But it was just so damn difficult. Although I don't remember any of these faces--round, thin, long, angular, olive, tan, brown--I was so sure I've seen them at least once in my life from a glimpse in the rearview mirror. Granted, I've never had any other connection with them but a swap of cash and change, but I was so good at reading people.

Easily irritable, wretchedly happy-go-lucky, indescribably kept-to-oneself--it's like a pastime that's been forced upon me whenever I wait for a red light go green.

I just wanted to know when that perfect guy was going to hail my cab, signal down my taxi for a lift. I only needed one glance at him to determine everything--his personality, his laugh, his weakness, his heart. He'll even love me for my nonexistent derriere. And if, or _when_, I meet him, I will know it.

But I've been wrong before, I admit. So it was a bad call on this old lady and her six cats. Excuse me if she really had four, and she had two dogs. I got that she was an animal keeper since she stunk up my backseat for a week with her smell.

But you're going to be amazing. I know it.

_And I will know your name eventually._

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_(A/N: Okay, just tell me: Do you like it? Dislike it? Or, dare I say...hate it? I need to know._

_I'm pretty sure this story will be a short one, but it will be funny and full of adventure, I promise. Jason and Vera are bound to meet some...er, unique individuals before they come across each other. And when will that be? Who knows how many 'degrees' will it take for me to put them together. But I know it will be fun to write it. =)_

_Please review this story. It would mean the world to me if you gave me some feedback. And again, I must remind you all that I'm not giving up on Video Girl, and although there's been a definite lack of update on Unaffordable, I'm not dead with that either. If I'm on a roll, I hope to have all three updates posted on one day. ...Psh, highly unlikely, but hey--wishful thinking.)_


	2. Chapter 2

(A/N: Okay, I'm not sure about this story's format yet. I'll be playing around with it until I'm satisfied, so I hope you enjoy! And thank you guys so much for reviewing this story!)

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* * *

Jason's P.O.V.**

"Shane." I knocked on the door. "Shane, when are you planning to let go of that blow dryer?" I asked.

Nate scoffed as he walked by me and down the small hallway of our tour bus, buttoning up his cuffs and almost ready to go. Unlike Shane. "That, Jason, is T.B.A.. You know that," Nate said. He looped a prepared necktie around his neck and tightened it, something Shane should've been doing right now. "I told you, you should've went before we left the venue."

"Oh, I did," I replied, smiling a bit since I thought of it ahead of time. I learned that lesson the hard way on a three-hour drive to a CD signing--and so did my brothers. Long story short, I ran over them in order to desperately find the closest bathroom. "But I need to take a quick shower before we get to the press conference." I pounded a few more times, the lock rattling within the door frame. "Shane, what are you doing in there?!"

A gust of wind suctioned into the bathroom when the door swung wide open, and there, in the wide open doorway stood a wide-eyed Shane.

"Do you see it?" he asked hastily, crazed.

I cocked and eyebrow. "See what?"

He whirled around and almost pressed his cheek upon the mirror, eyeballing himself. "How could this happen to me?! How?!" _Did I say crazed? Forgive me, I meant hysterical._

"I know I'm going to regret asking," Nate said, "but what are you talking about?"

I stepped aside the doorway and let Shane stand in between me and Nate, his nose flared and his jaw jutted out, not the least bit prepared for a press conference. Shane heaved a sharp sigh before taking a finger and pointing it at his cheek bone. "There," he grumbled loudly, "there! You see it?! I don't understand! I drink plenty of water, get more than enough sleep every night."

"Pft, you got that right," Nate said. "Your loud snoring proves it."

I placed a hand on Shane's shoulder and looked at him with concern. "Maybe you should get your nasal passage checked. You know, there could be giving you congestion with all that mucus that-"

He shoved at my wrist and growled aggravatingly. "Back to the important matter here, please! What am I going to do about," he paused to point attention to his cheek again, "_this!_"

Nate and I leaned in, our eyes squinting and almost to the point of a blink. "What are we looking at again?" Nate asked.

"Pimple," Shane seethed reluctantly. "I have a pimple on my face."

"I don't see anything," Nate said with a shake of his head.

Shane blinked. "What? Really?" He turned around and gave his reflection a once-over in the bathroom mirror. "Huh, I guess it's not that noticeable."

"Yeah," I said. "No one's going to notice a tiny little blemish at a press conference." Shane froze with his fingers in hair, just about to begin his daily grooming routine. "And if they do, I'm sure they won't comment about that…thing on your face, which looks like it could explode any minute. I mean, what a mess, right?"

"_No!_" Shane groaned loudly, unnecessarily mortified as he swerved around us and burrowed into his bunk. "Let me know when it's night fall. Until then, this pimple isn't seeing the _light of day_!"

"Thanks, Jason," Nate sarcastically said. "What'd you do that for?"

I took a step into the bathroom, and before closing the door I simply replied with, "I need to take a shower."

Nate sighed heavily. "Yeah, well, hurry up. We've got about fifteen minutes until we reach our destination."

I scoffed. "Please, Nate, if there was a Guinness for being the quickest person to shower and change clothes, I'd be standing on a podium, being honored for my awesomeness. Who else in the world gets ready as fast as I do?"

* * *

_"Okay, I'm good to go!" I announced hurriedly. "Kendal! Shower's free!"_

_"Huh?" she mumbled. "What time is it?"_

_"It's eleven in the morning."_

_"What?!" Thankfully the pillow in which her face was buried in muffled her shriek. "Vera, what the hell?! Why didn't you wake me up?!" In the motion of her swift pursuit, I almost fell over and dropped my ear stud down the sink. "Our shifts--we are so late!"_

_"You shouldn't have stayed out so late," I scolded, my smug smile stifled back._

_"Oh, bite me, __mom!" she grumbled, her things flung into the bathroom aimlessly. "Just because you didn't find someone to dance with __again at the club doesn't mean you can give me the stink eye."_

_Ignoring her response altogether, I laughed. "I'm not the one with the raccoon eyes. Someone forgot to wash off their make up last night."_

_Kendal stilled, her back to the bathroom mirror, refusing to give me another reason to throw my head back and peal with uncontrollable laughter. "You done?" she asked lowly._

_"I've been done a long time ago." Applying the last of my favorite cookie-flavored lip balm, I made way for the exit. "Timed it: ten minutes and forty-seven seconds. Now don't take too long; it's almost seven." I called once I shut the door behind me._

_"Yeah, yeah, y-" __Three, two, one. "It's only…?" Kendal swore under her breath, but I could hear it just as clear under the running of the water. "Just to let you know, Vera, I'm giving you the finger right now!"_

_"And I'm crossing my fingers!" I replied, responding habitually. "Whatever it takes to get you out of bed!" _

_Vera's following string of complaints were cut off. "__Ahh!" And I guess it was because I used up all the hot water._

_My snickering bubbled out and I winced. "And awake!"_

* * *

"Mm," Shane hummed happily as he took a good whiff of the plastic bag he held. "This Chinese food doesn't get you guys off the hook--especially you, Jason--for this morning, but it does help. I'm starving."

"What'd you order, Jason?" Nate asked. He reached over and tried to pilfer through the bag for his box, but Shane slapped his hand away.

"I let Shane pick for me," I answered, my sunglasses I'd used to go undercover while ordering the food slipping down my nose bridge. "I'm not really into Chinese food." Off the top of the bag, I swiped my hand across it, grabbing what I wanted. "I really just want my fortune cookie." I only got to break and enjoy the one half before Nate ate the other.

He didn't pay attention to my frown at him and read the strip of paper in his hand. A questioning look struck him. "Well, says here that you do like Chinese food," he said, his words broken into parts.

"What? Seriously?" Shane said incredulously. "What kind of fortune is that?"

"If that's what the might fortune cookie says." I shrugged. "Hey, break another one of those fortune cookies and see if they think coffee goes well with Chinese food."

Shane chuckled. "Whatever floats your boat, Jason. You don't need some cookie to tell you what to do."

As the car pulled over to the busy entrance of Starbucks, I slid my sunglasses back on. "Fine, but don't tell me the bad news when you eat your fortune cookie," I warned.

The line wasn't too long when I entered the coffee shop since it was midday and not many needed a surge of caffeine, but with the schedule we had everyday--we'd just flown Texas to the East Coast the other night--I needed it. I had to have it.

"I can help the next customer," a young woman called from behind the counter, waving a hand in the air to signal at me. As I approached the cash register, the lady's striking green, with a glimmer of hazel eyes brightened along with her smile. With the help of the Starbucks uniform, both facial features popped in the most pleasant of ways. To compliment her eyes and smile, her dark blonde shoulder-length hair framed her face. Laura, it read on her pinned name tag. "Hi there! What would like today, sir?"

I returned her a smile. She didn't know who I was under this awesome disguise. "An Iced Caramel Macchiato sounds good right about now," I mused. "But would that taste good with Chinese food?"

"Chinese food?" Laura wondered. She paused to think about how bizarre that sounded, but then continued. "Well,, if you want to balance the salty flavors out--depending on what you got, of course--then I suggest the White Chocolate Mocha for a smooth finish without the long aftertaste." She nodded with a grin, satisfied with her deduction.

"I wouldn't want to go against a coffee expert," I said. "An Iced White Chocolate Mocha it is." After handing her the money to pay for my caffeine fix, I followed her down the counter and waited for her to finish creating the beverage. While she poured all the ingredients into one container to blend, I took notice of a Yankees patch sewn into the back of her Starbucks cap. "You like baseball?" I asked, making for small talk.

"What?" she yelled over her blender.

"I said, do you like baseball?!"

"Oh, yeah! Love it!" she replied loudly. "You?"

"I'm a Yankees fan myself!"

"No way! So does that mean you're going to their away game here in Boston?"

"Are you kidding?" I leaned over the counter. "Against the Red Sox? I wouldn't miss that for the world!"

Now that all the contents were mixed together, we didn't have to talk over anything. But I didn't lean away from the counter. "Where are your seats? I might see you there, you'll never know," she laughed, predicting the impossible. "My family's been going to their games for generations, so we have season tickets for great seats."

"Maybe I'll see you there," I said.

"Maybe," she agreed, placing the cap over my drink and handing it to me. "You have a nice day…" she trailed off, fishing for a name.

"Jason," I finished. I already knew hers. "You, too, Laura."

**

* * *

Jason**_--Laura--?--?--?--?--_**Vera**

_

* * *

(A/N: Okay, so this took me forever to write. I couldn't decide how to write the format of the story. Another reason why this took so long for me to put out was because I've been super busy lately with my life since I have less than two weeks before I move into my college dorm room, practiced dancing non-stop for my friend's 18th birthday Cotillion, and I have a party to prepare for tomorrow. Did I mention I still have to pack? Bah._

_Anyway, I know this isn't much, but I'll work on it. It features a special someone who has been reading my works since I started: Laura, or lewstar13. The next update will be from Vera's perspective and we'll see who she meets!_

_Please review after reading!_

_PS: Oh, and Happy Birthday, or One Year Anniversary! It's been one year to this day when I first published Video Girl on fan fiction. I'll try and update tonight with at least a portion of the next chapter in honors of today.)_


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